


Dessert

by UbiquitousMixie



Category: Major Crimes (TV), The Closer
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 16:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7648021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UbiquitousMixie/pseuds/UbiquitousMixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brenda is a little distracted when Fritz has invited Sharon and Andy over for dinner. Prompt: quickie</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dessert

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t resist writing a story in which Brenda/Fritz and Sharon/Andy are friends while Brenda and Sharon are having an affair. Maybe I’ll visit this idea again. For now, enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Brenda wipes the counter with more vigor than necessary, as if expending the energy will diffuse the tension that has coiled like a knot in her gut. She is so achingly aware of Sharon’s presence behind her that she feels half-crazed and she clutches the dish towel so tightly that her knuckles turn white. 

“Why did we ever think this was a good idea?” Brenda mumbles, the faraway drone of her husband’s voice like nails on a chalkboard. He’s too close and it doesn’t matter that this is his home too, that it was his idea to invite over Sharon and Andy for dinner and then watch the Dodgers game together; all that matters right now is that Sharon looks like sex personified and that Brenda wants nothing more than to fuck her on the kitchen table. 

“We didn’t,” Sharon replies quietly, her voice a low hum. “This was Fritz’s idea.” 

“Well, you didn’t have to say yes.” 

“Brenda Leigh, you need to calm down.” Though Brenda hasn’t turned around, she can tell by Sharon’s voice that she is closer now, can feel the heat emanating from her body. “We’re friends. Let them be friends too.” 

Brenda snorts. “I can’t imagine they’re gonna be doin’ the same things we do.” 

Sharon is right behind her then, her fingertips trailing along her bare arms. “You never know. Maybe Andy will find your husband irresistible...maybe he won’t be able to help himself.” She scratches her nails up and down, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Maybe he’ll have been wanting him all day and not be able to keep his sanity until he has him.”

Brenda wants to argue, wants to tell her that she just can’t picture Fritz and Andy fucking each other at every feasible opportunity, but she’s too distracted by the press of Sharon’s breasts against her back. She can smell Sharon’s perfume and it’s even more intoxicating than the wine they both had at dinner. Her sex grows slick with arousal as Sharon brushes aside the sweep of her blonde hair to press a hot kiss against the back of her neck. “Sharon…” She leans her head back against Sharon’s shoulder; the rational part of her wants to stop this, but her body leans into the heady promise of satisfaction.

“Shh,” she says, winding her arms around Brenda’s waist, flattening her palms against her stomach and traveling up, up, up until she is cupping Brenda’s breasts. Brenda sighs, arching into the touch. “You have to be very, very quiet.” 

Brenda nods. Oh, they cannot be doing this, not when their significant others are a few rooms away. She trains her ears, hearing the murmur of their voices and the game on television. She can’t quite believe that Sharon is daring to do this but, oh god, it makes it that much more thrilling to know that Sharon is flirting with the risk of being caught. 

“You look good enough to eat,” Sharon whispers, her lips brushing against the shell of her ear. Her left hand trails down the expanse of Brenda’s stomach and grabs a fistful of her skirt, pulling it up until her hand can stow beneath. In seconds her long fingers are pressing inside her damp underwear, bypassing sticky curls to cup the swollen folds of her sex. “I wish I could. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to taste you.” 

Brenda’s knees nearly buckle at the hushed sound of Sharon’s voice. She wishes that they had all the time in the world to indulge in their fantasies. She’d love for Sharon to spread her out and feast upon her until Brenda sees stars, but there’s no time for that. For now, she’s being given more than she dared even hope for -- they shouldn’t be doing this, God knows, but she’ll take what she can get. 

Sharon’s fingers work between her legs, stroking through slick heat to work quick, tight circles around Brenda’s clitoris. She knows just how to touch Brenda to make her crazy, to make her come harder than she ever has before. She bites her lip, swallowing back her cries of pleasure, and arches her hips back against Sharon’s pelvis. Sharon nips at her earlobe. 

A loud cheer from the living room prompts them both to pause; they listen, their ears strained. When they hear nothing more than the continued excited chatter of the men, Sharon redoubles her efforts, lightening her touch until her fingers are barely touching her. Brenda’s eyelids flutter and she clenches her teeth into her bottom lip. There’s something about being teased with such gentle caresses that drives her to the edge. She teeters there, her world narrowing to the featherlight stroking of Sharon’s middle finger, but a moment is all it takes. When she comes, Brenda muffles her cry into the dish towel. 

Sharon does not linger as she usually does. Instead, she strokes Brenda through her orgasm and, once she is sated, she pulls free her hand and steps a respectable distance away. 

It takes Brenda Leigh a few moments to collect herself. She inhales shaky breaths and straightens her skirt before she turns to lean back against the counter. She flushes anew to see Sharon licking her fingers, the smirk on her face matching the mischievous gleam in her green eyes. 

“Does that help to take the edge off?” the brunette asks, crossing the kitchen to wash her hands. 

“Actually, now all I wanna do is return the favor…” She imagines backing the other woman against the refrigerator and having her way with her and -- 

“What favor is that?” Fritz asks, setting two empty bottles of non-alcoholic beer down on the counter. Andy is close behind him and he crosses over to Sharon, curling a possessive arm around her waist. 

Brenda forces herself to look away from the grip of Andy Flynn’s hand, smiling instead at her husband. “Next time, it’s my turn to bring the dessert.” 

\---


End file.
